


Hold This Rope

by SouthernSunshine



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 22:37:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16105238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SouthernSunshine/pseuds/SouthernSunshine
Summary: Set in a time where Ryan is finally back on stage after years of radio silence.But he's back now. And he has some things to take care of.





	Hold This Rope

It comes with a price; being a so-callled _profound_ songwriter. Because you look at the world as if it’s not yours to live in. You’re on the outside looking in, a wall of thin glass seperating you from everything and everyone. You feel as if there are so many things wrong with the world, too many things that you can’t fix and it’s so unfair that you can barely contain the pain you feel. The worst thing about it, is that it’s not your own pain. You feel for others. There’s not a single day where it eases up on you. No controlling it. 

 

So you try and numb yourself, because you don’t feel anything, yet you feel too much. And it’s not hard to get out of bed but it’s hard to stay there. So when I slept, I slept and slept and slept the days away. Because God knows when I’d rest again. Certainly not when I was supposed to. Afraid of missing out on something; one good moment amongst all of the bad ones. 

 

I poured my thoughts out on paper, for everyone to read. Because I knew that even if people were to read them, they could never grasp even a little piece of my mind. Even I can’t. I just do what I need to do, to not be drowned by this feeling of uselessness, while at the same time knowing that you’re here for a reason. Whatever that might be.

 

But I don’t want to be lost anymore, searching for something to grab onto. To ground me, make me feel like I belong here. No, I want to feel everything in the way that I am supposed to feel it. No more suppressing. 

 

The lights go out, the background music stops playing and I stand by the side of the stage. 

 

Somehow it feels like something I’ve never done before. However, at the same time, it feels so damn familiar. Inner conflict has always been a specialty of mine.

 

I was made for this, no matter what’s happened in the past.

 

Even if I don’t understand why they love me, why they _still_ love me, I’ll take it. I’ll make use of it and enjoy every second. Won’t ever have to lose sight of what I want again. Won’t have to lose sight of _myself_ again. I don’t have to do any of that, because I’m here. I built a life for myself, I did it. Now I just have to enjoy it, live it. Break through the wall of glass and shatter it; try not to be afraid of the shards it will leave on my body. I’d rather be wounded than safe, reach civilization after a lifetime of being lonely. 

 

Spill the secrets that have been suffocating me for so long. Come to terms with what or who has been. Accept that I fucked up and move on. But, I no longer have to forget. Don’t have to have that neverending feeling of unease. I guess that’s why I’m here tonight, and there tomorrow. And somewhere else next week. 

 

Touring isn’t lonely when you’re okay with yourself. I figured that out by now. So I’m here now, for them, but mostly for me. I missed this. Missed who I used to be; mind overflowing with ideas and words that I couldn’t contain.

 

Over the past few years, some have been saying that I was dead. No sign of life for months, until a picture popped up and the people that were still following me would once again be reassured that I wasn’t laying in a ditch. Or in my own home, overdosing on a drug that I couldn’t live without anymore; my body lifeless and cold. Maybe that was accurate in it’s own way, though. 

 

I’m sure they missed me too. 

 

“You’re on, Ryan!” 

 

The words I’ve been waiting on for over a year now. Lots of planning, this took. But I pulled it off. Or, well, my team and I. And the fans. Of course, buying the tickets, waiting for me. God, they waited so long. Not in vain though, I promised them. They know that, and I just hope it’s what they want. 

 

But no, I shouldn’t think that way ever again. No matter how thankful I am, I gave too much already in the past. I gave and nothing was returned, lived by what other people wanted; what they thought I was. 

 

Or maybe too much was taken from me, I don’t know. All I know is that I’m back now. Calmer and happier. 

 

I walk onto the stage, seeing the venue filled with people. Hundreds, perhaps. And that girl in the front row, she isn’t crying now, is she? 

 

“Don’t cry, please. We’ve got a whole night to go.” 

 

I speak as I stand in front of the microphone, as if it’s second nature. My first words spoken to this big of a crowd in years. I laugh a little bit and I hear them yelling, cheering, all at once. The girl in the front row wipes her eyes and looks at me in wonder, and I look back. 

 

They’re still listening. Always will.

 

I begin my first of many songs, all written on quiet nights in. Some lyrics are about events that’ve happened recently, but most are about what’s passed and long gone by now. About things that I no longer can, or want to deny. I was confused for a long time. I let many people down, including someone that’s very close to my heart. As close as one could possibly get to someone that sees the world through a screen. Yes, he managed to scratch it, make a tear and when he was close to breaking through, I pushed him away. Afraid of being hurt, afraid of _him_ being hurt. Losing him to the shards of glass that were there because of me in the first place. I couldn’t let him do that. 

 

But I kept revisiting the crack in the perfect, transparant barrier. Couldn’t forget. 

 

Didn’t want to forget. 

 

“This song is about… A love that _I_ lost. I’m saying that, because I fucked up. Multiple times. I had him, he loved me and he thought I loved him in return. Which I did, but I was too much of a coward to push through. But if.. If..” I stutter. Can I still back out now? Yes, but I shouldn’t. 

 

“But,” I continue with a deep sigh, “if he’ll have me. If he still wants to, I’d like to give us another shot. This song’s called Sentimental Boy and I hope you’ll listen.” 

 

Not sure who I’m talking to. Brendon, maybe myself. I don’t know. I don’t care. This is good. New beginnings. A new world. With or without him, I can manage now. I’ll break into the world once and for all.

 

But I hope he’ll be waiting for me on the other side, there to care for my wounds. 

 

There to save me, like he’s always wanted. And this time, I’ll let him. 

**Author's Note:**

> A one shot.


End file.
